He heard the anemones breathe peacefully and lightly in the mould, he heard thousands of grubs bore deep into the wood of the trees as cheerfully and imperturbably as though Summer were in the land. He saw the bees crawl about in their busy hive and share the honey they had collected in summer and have a happy time. He saw the bat in the hollow tree, the worm deep down in the ground; and, wherever he turned, he saw millions of eggs and grubs and chrysalids, well guarded and waiting confidently for him to go away.
Then he leapt down into the valley and raised his clenched fists to heaven. His white hair and beard streamed in the wind, his lips trembled, his eyes glittered like ice.
He stamped on the ground and sang in his loud, hoarse voice:
Roar forth, mine anger, roar and rouse
What breathes below earth’s girder!
By thousands slay them—bird and mouse,
And fish and frog and leaf and louse!
In deadly fog the valley souse!
Build me a royal pleasure-house
Of ice and snow, where storms carouse